


If You Love Something...

by sparklight



Category: Transformers (Dreamwave Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Immortality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:44:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1342897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... let it go.</p><p>Unfortunately, Starscream isn't the type to let go of things he considers his, even less when he's sure "letting go" means losing it completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Love Something...

The silence was coloured in a faint glowing blue, the chamber's walls covered in crystal that hummed with the sparks within - though only one of the distinct energies contained within needed to be here to stay.

The silence was a sullen sort of stubbornness which didn't even let up when the blue was pierced by gold.

**Starscream, let him go.**

In response, one of the sparks flared out and enveloped the other.

"Go _away_." It was probably more impressive that Starscream had become skilled enough to affect the world around him to produce enough soundwaves to make himself heard... Of course, the third presence in the chamber would've heard him no matter how he'd chosen to speak up.

 **You can't keep him like that forever, and while you'd undoubtedly attempt to disperse his spark yourself before you ever let go to let him fade, if you do _that_ you won't meet him again.** Patience burned around the abnormal spark in gentle reproach, and it figured that when the insufferable immortal one of his children found someone he actually latched on to, he did it with a desperation he probably wouldn't even admit to.

He'd _wanted_ to have Starscream _connect_ , but this would not do.

"What does it _matter_ , it's not as if he'll _recognise me_!" Not so much desperation as energon-curdling affront and offense in _those_ words. "Like this, it won't _matter_ , and _yes_ I'll kill him myself and then just continue and get my dues like I _should_ , and rule Cybertron and beyond. But _until then_ \---"

**Until then, you'd rather squeeze hard enough his energies will slowly destabilise and he'll end up losing important things that will help him remember you if you actually let him go.**

The silence turned brittle, Starscream's spark swirling in sharp, jagged bursts around the glittering sphere of spark energy it was both embracing and imprisoning.

"You're _lying_. He won't---! No one ever _remembers_ , what little of them is left the next time." Not even _he_ did, at least he hadn't before. He knew he would _now_ unless he chose not to.

 **Usually, yes, but if nothing could be done about it I wouldn't bother to tell you. He _will_ remember, but only if you actually _let go_ , Starscream.** The gold swelled, rising up from where it had been lingering by the floor of the chamber like golden mist. It brushed, carefully, against the outer pulse of Starscream's spark, which shuddered.

But the intended declaration that that, too, was a lie, a subterfuge meant to make him let go, died before it was uttered at that brush, having evaporated from the quiet, firm sincerity.

"... He will?"

**There's no reason for me to _lie_ , child. You can kill him under your own power, fading him out and what will be left won't even be remotely what you know, so in essence you will have killed him twice, or you can let go and enjoy his company again in the future.**

The silence stretched gold and blue and mistrustful, suspended in the infinite patience of a creator waiting for their child to take their first step. A step he'd waited _very long_ to see this particular spark to take.

"... _Fine_. If you're lying, you're going to wish that bloated gravel-muncher killed you," hissed Starscream as the cage his energies made opened up and he floated backwards, coalescing into a proper sphere again and Primus reached out, snagging the flaring spark that Starscream had held within in a cradle of gold.

**Go back outside, Starscream. This won't take long.**

"Says _you_." Somehow, Starscream managed to huff, not just sending the faint traces of air immediately around him fluttering, but his whole spark rippling in contempt. But he did as bid, the brilliant blue shooting out of the chamber, effortlessly passing through the natural crystal that was the reason he'd retreated here with his prize when Jetfire had finally offlined.

The crystal covering this chamber basically made it into a natural spark chamber, so he'd intended to use it for as long as he could.

When the blue had faded from the chamber and all that was left was gold reflecting in a hundred, thousand shades and tints against the faceted walls, most of which would never be seen by normal optics, a sigh rippled the energy.

Enduring sparks were such a hassle when they appeared. They bloomed bright and shouldered themselves into the Plan, demanding a space where there'd been none... Of course, they usually also made the Plan in the particular versions of it that they appeared in a little easier to maintain. Starscream himself had proven that, having - inadvertently, yes - rescued the core of Cybertron, the Well of All Sparks, from being given over to the quintessons by Megatron.

The issue was simply that, since he actually _cared_ , that enduring sparks matured slowly. Made connections either far too easily and strongly, or hardly not at all... and when they finally did, latched on with _everything_ they had and were. Some, like Starscream, didn't just mature slowly, they also had... exceedingly difficult personalities. 

But he _had_ let go.

The gold hummed in shades that sent the chamber singing, and he brushed the spark still in his grasp.

**You have quite a job in front of you, but you already know that. Are you willing to take on... ah, no. Rather, continue to shoulder the burden?**

He hadn't lied when he'd told Starscream Jetfire would remember, but he did not force the choices of others upon sparks that hadn't made that decision itself.

This one would have to choose by and for itself whether he'd go on or not.

The blue caught in the gold flared and pulsed against it after a few moments, reluctance in every flicker - but not for the reasons one might think. Primus did not laugh at the hesitance he saw in answering him, merely because _he_ was the one who'd asked. Scientists.

But then the answer came, and the gold revealed itself to have other colours, brilliant and many-tinted before the crystal chamber was left empty and dark again, the last strains of not-sound vibrating the crystal into the faintest notes of a song no one would hear, but one spark would vaguely remember.

**The choice is made.**


End file.
